


Day in, Day out

by 24ksoo



Category: EXO
Genre: Baekhyun takes a bath, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:41:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9782372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24ksoo/pseuds/24ksoo
Summary: Baekhyun has rare time to coddle himself. And an incurable case of the sniffles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by my friend who is too impatient to wait on the account waiting list! Why she hasn't tried making an account up until now boggles me too! Luckily, I'm a very good friend (and even better ex girlfriend!), who is willing to post this on my account (in return for a special fic specifically for me ;)).

_day in_  Baekhyun sighs inwardly, rushing water in his ears, in his head. d _ay out_. muddled memories flit through his consciousness, already blending together, indistinguishable, transient. there had been a photo shoot for this or that magazine (all he remembers is a pointy pair of glittery shoes that he'd snapped a photo of on his phone in glee, sent into the group chat), a brief lunch with his manager-hyung, a pre-recording for this or that event, and most notably, an incurable case of the sniffles. with a petulant air, he sniffs again, reminded and miffed.

  he glances back over, across the tiled bathroom, to the tub, half full. the hottest water he can coax out of their pipes. steam filters through the room steadily as the tub fills, it teases the tips of his hair, his fingers. it sweeps its way up the framed mirror, antithesis to ice on windows; it creeps its way up the neck of his reflection, over his chin, his mouth. he reaches out a finger, draws a smile where his lips are concealed, a real one graces his tired face.

  baekhyun sniffs again, coughs a little, grabs his own shampoo bottle from the shared cabinet, makes his way to the now-full tub. for a second, he stares down at the water, then he reaches over to turn the handle before it overflows. though it has him feeling a little pointless when he climbs in haphazardly, displacing water to slosh over the sides. minseok will scold him later, but that's okay.

  he settles in, the water burning at first, soothing sore muscles a second later. in belated remembrance, he gets up, (sloshes more water), grabs Jongdae's body wash where it's sitting on the ledge up on the wall under the shower head. it's thyme scented. he figures it should somewhat clear his stuffy nose. it gets drizzled in zigzagged stripes down the tub. he scoops it up where its sunk, turns his hands over in cyclic motions, churning bubbles out of the soap. they drift up to where he's half-sitting, half-lying against the end of the tub.

  sinking down a little further into the water, he blows into it like a big sigh. the bubbles rush up over his chin too, up to the bottom of his nose. when he lifts his head up out of the water, he feels them, the ridiculousness of how he must look, bearded with white suds. he imagines for a second himself as someone who would suit a white beard, as dumbledore perhaps. he ends up grinning though, dismissive, knows he'd rather play as harry, a main character, the chosen one. he reaches up, playfully traces circles around his eyes, a lightning bolt on his forehead. the ridiculous feeling returns, though he decides he'll take the time alone to be as childish as he wishes, only himself bearing witness. as if his parents or hyung or members or fans had ever denied him that luxury anyway.

  he feels similar luxury, sitting there, just sitting there. it's not something he can do everyday, days where he comes home too tired to do more than collapse into bed, sleeping in day clothes, but today there is time. there is time, he thinks, to do more than sit, and he slides an errant hand down his chest, grabs himself, but the water has washed away the oils in his skin and the friction is dry and unpleasant anyway. his lube is down the hall. he can enjoy the time in other ways, he thinks. the water sloshes quietly, and he breathes in quieter.

  after a brief interlude to facilitate shampooing his hair, he's now covered in more bubbles, more scents, gathering on his skin. he slides himself down the tub, knobs of his spine catching awkwardly on the bottom, until he's situated mostly underwater, only his eyes and nose left in the open. the steam and reflection of the water on the tub make pretty patterns. there are 46 tiles on the ceiling. he breathes in the water again, the steam, and closes his eyes, lets the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears take center stage in his head. it's relaxing, a steady drum.

  he opens his eyes, coughs, slides back up with water trickling out his ears. pinching his nose, he blows out hard, clogs his ears again, now with air, puts the world on mute.

  sitting there a while longer, he considers the merits of baking cookies on his next day off, of surprising jongdae with a new set of bath soaps, of telling the company he's going home to play with his corgi. the bubbles settle down into curling wisps of silver on the waters surface; he runs his fingers through them, drips water from his fingertips (wonders and guesses at how much time has passed).

  he gets up, gets out of the tub, shivers in the feeling of the air conditioning against his warmed, flushed skin. he reaches down, unplugs the tub, listens to the sound of water draining. his bathrobe is hanging on the hook on the door. It's one of the soft ones, and he relishes in the plush feeling, in how comforted and coddled it has him feeling. all he's done tonight is coddle himself, he thinks. it's a good feeling.

  the bathroom door is opened, and steam rushes out. he turns out the light, walks down the hall, lets himself into his room. he sniffles.


End file.
